Twiglet Tales
Curiouser and curiouser
Twiglet Tales
Curiouser and curiouser
Spinning the wheel of life at 0.25 speed.
We always knew we wanted a tiny human and we knew the road would be tough but we didn’t quite anticipate just how emotionally taxing it would be.
If you’re here for the receipts, here you go:
6 years into our relationship, we stood in the “Start” square, ready to say our vows and spin the wheel.
We had already carved out most of the initial baby fund from the wedding fund because nothing says romance like tweaking numbers on a spreadsheet 8 months before the wedding.
Who’s carrying?
One of us has always wanted to carry (Alex). The other always knew they did not (Me). Decision made. Easy.
Whose eggs?
Options on the table:
We started with option 1, then I had a quiet meltdown about future strangers pointing at our baby and attributing every Asian feature to me when I know it's a faceless donor.
Also, the ethnicity dropdown menu only goes as granular as “East Asian”. The idea of potentially having a non-Chinese baby was not a dice I was willing to roll.
So one Wednesday evening, over mediocre sushi, we discussed and decided on reciprocal IVF. We toasted with a sip of sake and vowed never to set foot in that restaurant again.
Whose sperm?
Between a known donor and an anonymous donor, we went for the latter.
London Sperm Bank is really the only option. While there is an in-depth written profile of the donor, under UK regulation, there are no photos or audio clips available. Any potentially identifiable information are redacted.
We chose someone whose hobbies, interests and personal statement was most similar to Alex’s personality. Physical traits mattered less to us given my delightfully dominant dark hair and eyes.
We booked our honeymoon in Cuba before booking an appointment with the clinic. What we didn’t know was that Cuba is a high risk zika virus country, so that meant we had to wait one long month for the virus risk to clear before starting the process.
Had we known, we would have booked somewhere else for our honeymoon.
Once the child of a sperm donor reaches the age of 18 they are legally allowed to find out the identity of the sperm donor who donated to their parent(s).
We could have tried the NHS. But given Alex works in the very hospital we’d be turning up to and she’s already at work over 40 hours a week, we wanted a change of scenery. London Women’s Clinic Cardiff was our closest clinic that offered reciprocal IVF.
This is the bit where time really slows down, your calendar becomes a pin cushion, and each waiting day is like a thousand tiny stabs to your heart.
“Have you had your tablets?" and "have you had your injections?” become a normal everyday greeting. Every good news is always paired with setting expectations, preparing our delicate souls for potential devastating news.
It was honestly exhausting and infuriating while still the single best thing to happen in our lives.
Initial tests and assessments
Bloods, scans, sanity checks. Incidentally, my follicle count was around 22. Alex had 8.
While ultimately, the success rate is 50/50 and a “higher follicle count doesn’t mean anything,” we absolutely took it to mean “have a tiny celebratory drink.” So we did.
Medication and monitoring
First, tablets to reset the cycle: 2 tablets a day, once at 7am and once at 7pm.
I tought it would be very hard to secretly take a tablet while out having a nice Thai dinner with friends but turns out, you can just take it right in front of them and they won't even notice!
Then injections. Thankfully, Alex is a handy doctor, not scared of stabbing someone with a needle because I don’t know how I would have done it myself.
We graduated from one jab a day to two, including Rekovelle, the diva of the fridge drawer: “grow eggs but not too many”.
A 22 follicle count is the higher end of the average so the clinic was cautious of potential overstimulation, leading to OHSS.
Alongside the injections were regular scans, hour-long commute to the clinic and hour-long pep talks on our way home.
Egg collection
Once we were close to egg collection, we took another blood test. We then booked an appointment for the procedure.
Serendipitously, the day fell on Alex’s birthday - 15 October.
It was a very efficient process, I remember nothing from the actual procedure. There was some mild discomfort afterwards as we slowly walked to a nearby noodle bar but nothing to complain about.
I took a long nap once we got home. And the evening was where it all happened.
Pain, nausea and briefly fainting on top of the staircase. Then throwing up the entirety of my noodle lunch. Followed by more pain, bloat and nausea.
Worried it might be something wrong or OHSS, we phoned the clinic’s emergency number a few times and went straight to voicemail each time. Not ideal.
So naturally, we decided to sleep it off.
I took one work meeting the next day and spent the rest of the day in bed.
The nausea, discomfort and bloating stayed for a couple more weeks but it was starting to get better week on week.
Fertilisation
They managed to retrieve seven follicles. Two were overly mature, five little egglets were fertilised.
Embryo transfer
We discussed approach for the embryo transfer. Given Alex’s very stable, natural cycle and her migraines, we opted for a natural cycle transfer. Fortunately, through our neurosis and impatience, we managed to catch the initial window within the same month by a day. Otherwise we would have had to wait for another month!
We waited for Alex’s next period, then more scans, more bloods, more ovulation tests. Finally, we defrosted one embryo and transferred on 1 December 2025. The others are still in their snow globes, enjoying a quiet Christmas.
IVF is a masterclass in managing expectations and delayed gratification.
You wait for blood results, for follicles, for fertilisation updates, for your cycle and finally, for the mythical two-week wait. You learn that hope can be exhausting and necessary at the same time. Constant pep talks through all the uncertainty and annoyance, optimism and sadness, and what it all means (literally and figuratively).
We also fell in love with the embryologists. Just such lovely people.
The longest fortnight known to humankind. We did not watch the clock. We watched everything else while secretly watching the clock.
Result: positive on the first cycle 🎉. We felt so incredibly lucky.
In the UK, if you’re married or in a civil partnership, using donor sperm via a licensed clinic, both partners can be legal parents from birth. The carrying partner is automatically a parent. The non-carrying partner signs a “Consent to Parenthood” form at the clinic before treatment.
It’s not cheap. Our single reciprocal cycle landed at £9,070.28 including:
We also budgeted for potential extra cycles, because optimism is best paired with a contingency fund.
We’re officially pregnant now and so grateful. It's one of the toughest things that we've gone through mentally and emotionally, and we're so happy we're here now.
If you’ve been through IVF, we’d love to hear your story.